Pathfinder Tales: Lord of Runes (12 page)

“I don’t want to go alone.”

“Of course not. That is why one hires guards and bearers and guides.”

“That isn’t what I meant. I didn’t spend my teenage nights dreaming of going on an adventure with hirelings.” She stepped close and caught my coat by a button hole. “I dreamed of going with you.”

Her overture took me by surprise. Wonder rendered me mute and paralytic as our faces drew close. A scent of violet in her lip rouge. The flutter of her eyelash upon my cheek. I could not tell which of us was moving toward the other.

“Boss! Boss!” Radovan’s voice accompanied a tumult of footsteps.

I retreated a discreet step away from Illyria, who turned and pretended to examine the nearest book as Radovan burst through the door. I felt equal measures of relief and frustration at the interruption.

Arnisant pushed past Radovan to sniff my feet and Illyria’s. His initial wariness of her had dissolved after we left Ygresta’s chambers, reinforcing my belief—or was it a hope?—that what the hound found objectionable lay within the Acadamae, not in her person.

An armored woman followed Radovan into the room.

She was tall even for one of the Ulfen, the hardy warrior tribes found primarily north of us in the Lands of the Linnorm Kings and wintry Irrisen. Her attire needed more tending than she gave it, but her easy bearing gave me hope that she was as much a professional as Radovan estimated.

“Boss, Lady Illyria, let me present Janneke Firepelt.”

Janneke made a greeting gesture of the eastern clans, plucking the air above her heart, her lips, and her brow before nodding to me. I returned the gesture and replied in Skald, the tongue of her people: “May there be no lies in our hearts, on our tongues, or upon our thoughts.”

She blinked in surprise that a Chelaxian should know Ulfen customs. Her eyelashes were the same red-gold as her hair. “Excellency. Lady.”

“Janneke’s got a line on Zora.”

“Zor
an
,” insisted the bounty hunter. “And I have several leads, but one is stronger than the others. You’ll be more interested to hear what I squeezed out of the fence.”

“Indeed I might.” I cleared some books and offered her the largest of the chairs. Taking the hint, Radovan cleared the divan for Illyria and me. As he finished, I caught his eye. “Drinks?”

With a nod, Radovan went to the sideboard, where the wine I had kept from Ygresta’s store room had remained largely untouched since my visit to the Orisini Academy.

“Nothing for me,” said Janneke. “Not while on the job.”

“The boss don’t mind,” said Radovan.

“I’ll have a drink when the job is done.”

While Radovan poured a glass for me and another for Illyria, I gestured for the bounty hunter to share her news.

“Zoran’s been wanted all over Varisia for nearly six years. For most of that time, he was known for burglaries of noble houses. Silver and gold, jewels and art. Never anything from a vault.”

“Purely a second-story gal, eh?” Radovan settled into his own chair. Arnisant sat on the floor beside him, looking up once in hope of a treat before settling his head on his enormous paws.

“A couple years ago, this fence says Zoran stopped visiting so often. He assumed it was just a dry spell, but Zoran would leave town, sometimes for months. When the fence pried, Zoran said he’d been working for a special collector. The fence warned that the Cerulean Society wouldn’t like that if they weren’t getting their cut.”

“What’s this Cerulean Society?” said Radovan.

“Thieves’ guild,” the rest of us said in unison.

“Fancy name.”

“It didn’t matter to Zoran,” said Janneke. “He told the fence he couldn’t move the sort of things he’d been stealing.”

“Arcane objects?” said Illyria.

Janneke tapped the side of her nose. “Powerful ones. Things this fence could never afford.”

“That must have meant much more danger for this Zoran.”

“Right, and not just from the Cerulean Society,” said Janneke. “The fence could tell Zoran was more scared of whoever he was stealing for, and that scared the fence enough to stop pushing.”

“This information conforms to our current hypothesis,” I said. “But it does not tell us where to find this Zoran.”

“That’s the good part,” said Radovan. “Go on, tell him what else you found out.”

Janneke shot him a look that said she did not need his help. “Zoran visited the fence two nights ago. He wanted to move some decorative plaques on the quick, and he couldn’t wait for a good price. Zoran also had a bag full of loot, but he wouldn’t show it. He said it was too hot to sell in Korvosa. He’d have to take it north.”

“To Janderhoff?” I said.

“It’s possible.” Janneke sounded dubious. “The fence said he got the impression Zoran meant somewhere farther north, like Kaer Maga.”

Illyria and I exchanged a nod.

“That’s just where I would go to sell stolen magic,” said Illyria. “Especially if I had stolen it from the Acadamae grounds.”

“The bloatmages of Kaer Maga seem less daunting when the alternative is to remain and face the wrath of an entire university of wizards,” I said. “Do you know whether Zoran has already left the city?”

“I don’t,” said Janneke. “But in the past I’ve heard he travels with Varisian caravans. I asked around in Thief Camp. None have gone north in the past three days, but one is leaving tomorrow morning. That’s as much as I found out before a Sczarni cutthroat marked me as a bounty hunter, and the rest of the Varisians clammed up.”

“Excellent! Can you drive a carriage?”

“Sure.”

“Are you free to accompany us to Thief Camp and, if necessary, on to Kaer Maga?”

“Kaer Maga, huh? That’s a long ride to a bad town.”

I named a figure. Janneke hesitated before saying, “For the whole trip?”

“That is a daily wage.”

She pursed her lips but stopped herself before whistling in appreciation. “And I collect the bounty when we catch Zoran?”

“The bounty is all yours. I wish only to question the thief, and you may have him.”

“After I get my cards back,” said Radovan. “From
her
.”

“All right,” said Janneke. “But I want a contract and a guaranteed two weeks’ pay minimum if we go a day away from Korvosa.”

My estimation of the bounty hunter’s professionalism increased. She knew how to barter, and she understood the value of a contract. “You shall have them both. Can you be ready to depart within the hour?”

“I can go right now.”

“Excellent. Radovan, see that the carriage and team are prepared.”

“Way ahead of you, boss. I did that before we came up.”

“Well done.”

“Just one thing. You don’t want to hire more guys? I mean, what’s this Thief Camp?”

“It’s where all the moths and horsers go to avoid the city watch,” said Illyria. Radovan blinked at the terms. She explained, “Varisians and Shoanti.”

“So it’s a rough place?”

“Not for a rugged fellow like you.”

“While Thief Camp has a deserved reputation for lawlessness,” I said, “it is also a staging area for Varisian caravans. We may even bolster our supplies and hire additional guards there, if all goes well.”

Illyria turned to Radovan. “When was the last time all went well?”

“That never happens.”

“Radovan,” I said.

“Right, right.” He gathered my belongings and placed them inside my satchel. I knew from experience that collecting his belongings from the adjoining room would take something less than a minute.

“Lady Illyria, I must take my leave of you now. If you have not left for Riddleport by my return, may I call on you at your father’s house?”

“You may not,” she said.

“But why? Have I done something to offend—?”

“Don’t be preposterous, my dear count. You can’t call on me at my father’s house because I am coming with you.”

“But, no. That is not what I meant to suggest.” Ignoring me, she helped Radovan gather books for my satchel. When she started taking them from him to put them in order by topic, he retreated to stand beside me.

“So she’s coming?”

“No,” I said quietly.

“Then how come you’re whispering?” He picked up the confectioner’s box and reached for the remaining tart. “Hey, you gonna eat this?”

Before he could touch it, I snatched it up and popped in it my mouth. It provided small comfort.

6

Thief Camp

Radovan

On the street outside Upslope House, I climbed up the back of the Red Carriage. On the other side, Janneke checked the harnesses on the team before nodding to the hostler who’d brought them around. The big bays looked fit and well rested. They hated me, but I couldn’t hate them back. They’d saved our lives too many times for me to hold a grudge.

I double-checked the supplies we’d secured along the edges of the roof. We kept most in the boot to balance the weight, but I left some on top to keep the surprise a surprise.

The boss stepped out of the guest house, Arni following at his heels. The boss was filling out at last. We’d both got mighty thin on the way over from Sarkoris, but he was going to need a visit to the tailor if he didn’t cut back on the pastries. He looked left and right before calling up to me. “Any sign of Lady Illyria?”

“She’s gonna be mad we didn’t wait.”

“Are you saying that you trust her to accompany us?”

He looked serious. It wasn’t one of those rhetorical questions. He really wanted an answer. “I like her all right. I don’t know I trust her. You know, on account of ‘necromancer.’ But that don’t seem to bother you so much.”

“I am more concerned that she may be presenting us with a façade.” He paused. “A façade is a false front.”

“I know what a façade is.”

“Before you interrupted us, she made a sudden overture of affection.”

“So you don’t trust her on account of she likes you.”

“Appears to like me.”

“Maybe she does. No accounting for taste. You like her?”

“She is…” He furrowed his brow, and I figured the word got away from him.

“Oh, you got it bad, boss.”

With one last glare at me, he got inside and slammed the door.

“All secure back there?” Janneke had set the pack with all her fancy ammo on the seat beside her, her plumed helmet on top of that. It made her look like she was riding beside a dwarf. I looked around just to make sure none were creeping up on us.

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go.”

She cracked the reins and got the horses moving. Right away I could tell she was good with them.

Janneke drove us around the Heights and up toward North Point. Much as I enjoyed the scenery, I gave the scorpion another once-over.

About halfway through our stint in Sarkoris, the boss got tired of being the only one who could bring down a flying demon. It didn’t matter I could perforate ’em with a crossbow. He needed me to drag them all the way down, where me and the big knife could do our thing while he frosted the rest with his sorcery and riffle scrolls.

To do that, he called in a favor with an old military buddy. That guy got his siege engineer to rig something special for the carriage. He put it on a folding steel base, so we could travel with it low to the roof and pop it back up as needed. Mostly we kept it down, because when it was up it threw off the balance. Still, you wanted it to pop up when you needed it.

They call it a scorpion, but it’s really a giant crossbow that fires steel bolts that look more like whale harpoons. Some were rigged so the razor-sharp heads snapped open like backward bear traps, making the hole ten times bigger. Demons can shrug off a lot—lightning, fire, poison, all kinds of stuff—but no matter whether you’re from Cheliax, Hell, or the Abyss, big holes in the chest cavity pose a problem.

So we put ’em in them.

“What’ve you got back there?” Janneke strained to look back at me. The carriage started drifting over to a cart of roasted hens.

“Keep your eye on the street.”

“Is that what I think it is?”

“It is if you think it’s a scorpion.”

“I want to see.”

“Maybe later.”

“Why don’t you drive while I look it over? I’m good with crossbows.”

“Sweetheart, you do
not
want me in that driver’s seat. More important, the horses don’t want me there.”

“I don’t want you calling me that while we’re on the job.”

“What, ‘sweetheart’?”

“That’s right. Knock it off.”

I muttered something that maybe ended in “sweetheart.”

“What was that?”

“I said ‘all right’! All right?”

The boss knocked on the roof. Well, the ceiling. His ceiling, my roof. I leaned over the side and saw he’d opened the window.

“Fetch a pair of those roast guinea hens.” He pointed at the cart Janneke was trying to pass.

“Don’t you want three?” I figured Janneke deserved a snack.

“Yes, make it three.”

I hopped down, snagged three birds, leaving a bit more than their price, and ran back to the carriage. Each came with its own bit of waxed butcher’s paper to keep from burning your fingers. With three, I had to juggle a bit.

Back up on the ladder, I passed one through the little window. The boss reached out and grabbed the second one.

“Aren’t these for me and Janneke?”

“You should have said you wanted one. You can run back if you like.”

By the time I passed him the third, he was already sucking the flesh off a leg bone.

Janneke drove past the statue of Montlarion Jeggare standing tall and portly in the middle of the circle. I didn’t see much family resemblance, but I muttered down at the boss. “You’ll look like him one day, you’re not careful what you eat.”

“What?” said Janneke.

“Nothing.”

We rode along Northgate Avenue toward a big bridge. While I kept my eyes peeled for trouble, including Lady Illyria, I couldn’t help but admire the scenery. We passed a couple of big buildings sitting side by side. The first, with its scales of Abadar and spirals of Pharasma carved onto its façade—I know what façade means—looked like a prison. The word LONGACRE was chiseled into its face. Next to it was Korvosa’s City Hall, full of clerks in stupid-looking hats winding their way through white columns.